


The More Things Change

by a_big_apple



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Post-Promised Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_big_apple/pseuds/a_big_apple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for fma_slashfest with the prompt "Written in the stars."</p>
<p>Decades after the Promised Day, Ed visits an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The More Things Change

“You knew I would arrive tonight?” Ed says when he hears light footsteps and the rustle of silk behind him. It’s almost a rhetorical question; he’s gotten better at stealth, but he’d never have made it all the way through the royal compound to this private balcony unmolested if the guards (none of whom he’d managed to spot, but who were surely lurking in every deep patch of shadow) weren’t forewarned.  
  
“Your coming was foretold in the stars,” the Undying Emperor replies grandly. “Also, I have an extensive information network.” His voice, the smirk in it, is precisely as Ed remembers.  
  
He stares at the starscape a moment longer; the sky is black as ink in between the twinklings of foreign constellations. There are several that he knows, though undoubtedly his brother would be able to identify more, and he picks them out before swiveling to greet his companion.  
  
Ling _looks_ precisely as Ed remembers him, too. Swathed in layers of robes, yes, and missing the unruly bangs, but…young. Still so young, and looking at him is dizzying. For a moment, Ed is sixteen again. Sense memory brings back the smell of the woods in winter, the flickering of the campfire through the canvas of the tent flap. The sudden, searing heat of a mouth on his, and the shock of freezing fingers sliding up beneath his shirt.  
  
  
  
 _“Been a while, Ling.”  
  
“I’m very sorry. I told Greed that you had a needy look in your eye, but he was completely uninterested. I can’t imagine why; you are an infinitely interesting person.”  
  
“Don’t tell him about the need in my eye, you idiot! No wonder it’s taken you so long.”  
  
“Ed. Are you going to berate me, or are you going to kiss me?”_  
  
  
  
The memory scatters when Ling leans closer, raising an eyebrow. “You haven’t aged a day,” Ed murmurs, and that mostly-somber Emperor face cracks, splitting into a wide grin.  
  
“I bet you say that to all the girls. Even the ones who aren’t immortal.”  
  
“It’s too bad, actually. I think a little gray at the temples is pretty hot.”  
  
“That’s because you’re an egotist,” Ling replies, stepping closer to trace the line of Ed’s own gray, following it back from his hairline to the base of his ponytail and tugging the tie free. Ed smiles softly and shakes his hair out like a dog shaking off water; there’s a crick in his neck that complains, but damn if he’s going to tell Ling that. He stops caring about it entirely a moment later, when the Emperor hikes up his stately robes and throws a leg over Ed’s thighs and _whoomp_ s down onto Ed’s lap.  
  
“Dammit, Ling, you think you could go a little easier? Either all that silk you’re wearing adds about twenty pounds, or you’ve been dodging Lan Fan to raid the kitchens.”  
  
“Lan Fan has more important things to do than follow me around,” Ling replies airily, wiggling until he’s comfortable, one hand curled around the back of Ed’s neck and the other casually flicking open the buttons of his shirt. “She trains the entire Imperial Shadow Guard herself. None of them are quite as good as she is, though.”  
  
Ed slides his hand up along Ling’s thigh, disappearing into the shadows of his bundled robes, and squeezes. “No wonder you’re putting on some pudge. They’re making you lazy.”  
  
Ling’s lashes flutter against his cheeks as he sighs, leaning closer to murmur against Ed’s cheek. “Are you going to berate me, or are you going to kiss me?"  
  
As it happens, Ling even _tastes_ precisely like he used to.


End file.
